GEORGIA
GEORGIA (1972)
Director: Stig Bjorkman
Scorpion Releasing

Black singer Georgia Martin (Diana Sands, A RAISIN IN THE SUN) is the
most popular American singer in Europe. Arriving in Stockholm with her matronly
companion Abigail Anderson (Minnie Gentry, THE BROTHER FROM ANOTHER PLANET)
and her agent Herbert (Roger Furman), she surprises the foreign press in her
lack of concern or awareness political and racial issues in the United States
(she asks the interviewers to restrict their questions to “music, singing,
love, and romance” as anything else bores her). In between performances,
she finds times to fall in love with white American photojournalist Michael
Winters (THE A TEAM’s Dirk Benedict), but Abigail would rather see her
with Bobo (Terry Whitmore, Peter Watkins’ THE GLADIATORS), one of a handful
of African-American Vietnam deserters in Stockholm who want Georgia to draw
media attention to their plight (lack of work and access to medical and psychiatric
care). Although frivolous and carefree on the outside, Georgia is really a neurotic
wreck with an extremely fragmented sense of self; yet Michael seems to accept
Georgia as she is (although he seems to be more capable of hiding his own deep
neuroses behind his camera). When Bobo – who has had Georgia tailed around
the city – tells Abigail that Georgia and Michael have been seen together,
the older woman vehemently objects to what she sees as a betrayal of their entire
race.

The New York Times described the film as being about “a
black woman with white fever” but the interracial love story is more like
the tipping point. Georgia isn’t a very involving protagonist for the
first half of the film; her internal conflicts are signified onscreen more by
the sparring of Abigail (who tells Bobo that Georgia has nearly “kicked
the habit” of being black and that she tries to keep her on it) and Herbert
(who regards Georgia as royalty and everyone else, black or white, as “little
people”). “Black women have never been known to turn their backs
on the responsibilities, not in history,” Abigail says when Georgia orders
her to find something else to do while she is trying to work, but the old woman
has firm ideas on what Georgia’s responsibilities are, including helping
Bobo and the other defectors (especially after witnessing how direly in need
one of them is of psychological help). When Georgia makes utters such trailer-ready
lines like “Why do they wanna make me superhuman? Why can’t I be
just plain Georgia?” or “I’m a woman, not black, not famous,
not beholden to a living, just a woman!” one could interpret that as reflecting
a side of Angelou in an earlier time still trying to find herself outside of
the expectations others have of her as a famous black personage. When Herbert
suggests Georgia sing a blues number to please the audience, she replies “Why
don’t I just blacken my face and call myself Mammy” which greatly
offends Abigail, who thinks of herself as a kind of motherly figure but not
in the derogatory sense (Georgia tells Herbert that she keeps Abigail around
as a reminder of what she escaped). Suggesting that the chilling finale is racially-motivated
would almost seem like a justification, when it might be more appropriate to
describe it as the tragic results of hate (one person dies, but all of the principal
characters are destroyed even if we only see the direct results on two of them
in the last scene).

Broadway
actress Sands, who died of cancer in 1973 at age 39 a few days into the shoot
of CLAUDINE (she was replaced by Diahann Carroll), has several fine moments
in a never fully cohesive performance (understandable given the character’s
almost schizophrenically changeable moods). Benedict – who gets an “and
introducing” credit here – is underserved by a script that fails
to balance out his side of the relationship (according to both director and
actor in the disc’s commentary track, at least six of his scenes were
cut out of the final producer-supervised edit). We are not given anything on
Michael’s immediate background – including how he came to be in
Stockholm – and what we are shown of him outside of his scenes with Georgia
seem like unfinished trims of sequences (attending a park concert, visiting
a nightclub, pacing around his apartment). We don’t know if he is a deserter
too, but we know he saw combat and he is somehow psychologically or physically
damaged (early in the film, Bobo jokes to his buddies that Michael’s experiences
have rendered him impotent). Commentary moderator Steven Ryfle points out that
Cinerama Releasing’s early press materials for the film made no mention
of Sands’ character, only referencing a Vietnam Vet who falls in love
in Stockholm (Ryfle also reveals that Cinerama was uncomfortable with the interracial
aspect and wanted Michael’s character rewritten as a black man). GEORGIA
GEORGIA was Gentry’s first film, but she had begun her acting career on
the stage in the thirties with the Karamu Theater (an African-American theater
company in Cleveland). Her performance here is unsubtle but ultimately unnerving.
Furman began his career in the forties with the American Negro Theater (GEORGIA
GEORGIA was one of only two films he in which he appeared). The gay characterization
of Herbert is refreshingly free of "queeny" or self-loathing clichés
of the period, and the script doesn’t reduce the complexity of his character
to sexual frustration. Whitmore, a real-life GI who deserted Vietnam after being
injured in a fire-fight, penned the book MEMPHIS-NAM-SWEDEN about his experiences,
although I’m not sure how helpful the final cut may have been to his cause.
Diana Kjaer – star of Mac Ahlberg’s FANNY HILL and Vernon P. Becker’s
DAGMAR’S HOT PANTS – plays a local girl whose dalliance with Michael
goes nowhere.

GEORGIA GEORGA was one of three productions by Irish-American Quentin
Kelly and African-American Jack Jordan, whose company aimed to produce prestige
black films. They had previously enlisted African-American directors Bill Gunn
to script and helm the arty vampire film GANJA & HESS and Michael Schultz
(SEARGEANT PEPPER’S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND and THE LAST DRAGON) to direct
HONEYBABY, HONEYBABY, which also featured Sands along with Calvin Lockhart (THE
BEAST MUST DIE). For GEORGIA GEORGIA, they commissioned writer/composer/dancer/actress/lecturer
Maya Angelou to write a screenplay. Angelou had studied cinematography in Sweden
– so she was familiar with the setting – but had little to do hands-on
with the film’s production, which was helmed by Swedish film critic Stig
Bjorkman (although Bjorkman mentions in the commentary that Angelou was on location
and clashed with him on his preference for improvisation). He had only directed
on feature prior to GEORGIA GEORGIA, and of the six subsequent films he directed
between 1972 and 1985, only THE WHITE WALL (with Bergman actress Harriet Andersson)
seems to be the only other one that had any sort of US distribution. Bjorkman’s
later efforts have been documentaries on filmmakers, including TRANCEFORMER
on Lars Van Trier (featured in its entirety on Criterion’s DVD of THE
ELEMENT OF CRIME), I AM CURIOUS, FILM on Vigot Sjoman, and …BUT FILM IS
MY MISTRESS on Ingmar Bergman. He has also written the Faber & Faber books
on Woody Allen and Lars Van Trier, as well as a Michelangelo Antonioni book
for Cahiers du Cinema.

GEORGIA
GEORGIA was originally released on VHS in the states by Prism Entertainment
(whose catalog included a range of Cinerama Releasing product) with box art
that emphasized Benedict’s presence (as the star of BATTLESTAR GALLACTICA).
Opening with a Cinerama Releasing logo, Scorpion’s single-layer, progressive,
anamorphic widescreen (1.78:1) transfer of GEORGIA GEORGIA is attractive though
appropriately soft and grainy for Swedish Super 16mm low budget seventies production
(cinematographer Rune Ericson – developer of the format – is credited
as technical consultant). Some scratches and dings are apparent, but the bulk
of the presentation is very clean. Colors are somewhat muted, but that is more
by design than the condition of the element (Sands’ red outfits –
and her fingernails – really pop in every shot, and the red-gelled nightclub
scenes seem otherworldly in contrast with the bright exteriors and the stark
whiteness of Georgia’s hotel suite). The film was photographed by Greek
cinematographer Andreas Bellis who shot a number of Scandinavian exploitation
films including I, A WOMAN PART II, THE SECOND COMING OF EVA, and THRILLER (he
would also star in Bo Arne Vibenius’ hardcore BREAKING POINT). From the
eighties onward, Bellis would become Nico Mastorakis’ DP of choice. Some
long shots look like they would be better framed at the 1.66:1 aspect ratio,
but the film would have been matted further to 1.85:1 for US theatrical projection.
The Dolby Digital mono track is also in clean, although the most of the music
seems rather recessed into the mix; that is, until Georgia performs “I
Can Call Down Rain” and the music takes on a bolder presence (the same
can be said for the end titles rendition of “This Little Light of Mine”
which makes it even more disturbing in context).

Director
Stig Bjorkman and actor Dirk Benedict appear on a commentary track, moderated
by film critic Steven Ryfle. Benedict and Bjorkman point out missing scenes
and footage present that Bjorkman left out of his final cut. Bjorkman was more
interested in the love story, and wanted to balance both sides with some background
for Benedict’s character. The producers (and Angelou) wanted to emphasize
the political angle and integrated every scrap of related footage back into
the film, which was re-edited by Hugh Robertson – credited as “editorial
consultant” – the first African American editor nominated for an
Oscar (original editor Sten-Göran Camitz is listed in the end credits).
Benedict feels that his character was underwritten and that the political angle
was over-emphasized for a film about an apolitical black woman abruptly falling
in love with a white guy in Stockholm. A well-researched Ryfle keeps the discussion
flowing with questions that focus more on the film’s themes than shooting
anecdotes (although Benedict and Bjorkman are scandalously candid about their
working relationship with Sands). A behind the scenes photo gallery is also
included, which is all the more interesting because the stills provided by actor
Benedict. The only trailer that Scorpion could find for the film was a Spanish
or Mexican trailer (2:37) – titled PRISIONERA DE SU DESTINO – with
English dialogue subtitled in Spanish and Spanish narration and onscreen text.
No other Scorpion Releasing trailers are included.(Eric
Cotenas)